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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151001">A New Problem</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335'>mssrj_335</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FinnPoe Fantasy Noir [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Am I implying touch-starved Finn?, Bullshit Tech, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Incubus Finn (Star Wars), Kissing, M/M, Mystery, POV Finn (Star Wars), Phoenix Poe Dameron, Pining, Pining Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron Has a Motorcycle, TROPES FOR DAYS, The First Order Is Out To Destroy The World Again, The Plot Thickens honhonhon, Touch-Starved, Tropes, Unresolved Tension, maybe a little ooc?, of every kind, we're serving TFA Finn here sir, yes I am</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:01:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn meets Poe in a coffee shop for another 'date'. He's just supposed to hand over the data, not get more head over heels.</p><p>--</p><p>Sequel to A Kind of Predicament but can be read as standalone AND with beautiful art from AgrippaSpoleto!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Finn/Poe Dameron, Finnpoe, Poe Dameron/Finn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FinnPoe Fantasy Noir [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A New Problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>self-edited, sorry for the mistakes i try<br/>i hope this makes sense, it did in my head lol i'm trying not to overwhelm with details so hopefully there's enough for a cohesive story</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finn stares down at his coffee. His tail twitches. He’s trying so hard not to look again because that's suspicious. And isn't the whole point of this not to be suspicious? Ugh, he can't help it. He peeks around the shop as surreptitiously as he can. And yes, ok, nothing's changed since last time he looked. The coffee shop's packed. The angel's still serving up espresso shots and blood lattes behind the bar, looking like they could use a shot or three themselves. There's a werewolf sitting nose stuck in a news holo, a couple of goblins head to head in a heated debate with a grumpy gnome. Everyone else looks to be some kind of night creature rolling in for the start of their day. Banshees, vampires, the works, jostling elbow to elbow with some humans dragging in for third shift. Out of all of them, the only one giving him the creeps is the ghoul in the corner. There's a nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that he's seen that ghoul somewhere before but he just can't be sure.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe he's just getting paranoid because Poe's late and the new datastick he stole is burning a hole in his pocket.</p><p> </p><p>The door jingles as some patrons bustle out into the night. Finn tries not to jump and looks back to his coffee, the magic binders on his wrists clacking against the table as he drops his hands. His skin tingles a bit, some little electric current biting the air. <em>Christ, where is Poe?</em></p><p> </p><p>"You thinkin' about me?" a honeyed voice murmurs. "My ears are burnin'."</p><p> </p><p>Finn does his very best not to shake right out of his horns. He manages to bite the fright into a tiny little jerk but it pulls a chuckle out of Poe's throat anyway. He tosses his leather jacket in the booth and leans in.</p><p> </p><p>"Where have you been?" Finn hisses, accepting Poe's cheek kiss. The fact it makes his skin tingle again is something he keeps to himself. "I thought you weren't going to show."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," Poe says a little louder than necessary. "Got tied up in paperwork."</p><p> </p><p>Which, Finn's learned, is another way to say Poe got dragged into a fistfight with whatever bad guy he'd been chasing. There's a little evidence of it in the red swelling on his cheekbone as he signals for a server.</p><p> </p><p>"Don't you have a blaster for that?"</p><p> </p><p>Poe cocks an eyebrow, wrinkling the blue and orange tendril tattoo that creeps from his temple. "I don't know about you, but I've never known paperwork to be very...verbose after takin' a blaster to it."</p><p> </p><p>Finn purses his lips, hoping that shows just how unamused he is as the server takes Poe's order. Despite himself, he does feel better now that Poe’s showed up. There's an easy, welcoming energy rolling off him that makes Finn lean forward, like he could touch it. Now, he's just trying to keep his tail from twitching so much. Or twining around Poe’s ankle for support. If it wasn't so uncomfortable, he'd just sit on the damn thing; has a mind of its own. Clearly Poe’s not bothered; he seems totally nonplussed. He reclines back in his booth seat like he hasn't a care in the world, which serves to feed that spark of attraction Finn's trying to hide and piss him right off. Smug, cool bastard. Couldn’t he be at least a little worried? The only thing that betrays Poe’s nerves is the way his eyes light. </p><p> </p><p>Not that he’s been thinking about Poe’s eyes since their fateful meeting. Or his wings. Or the way his mouth quirks up in a <em>very </em>attractive way, half between a smirk and a sneer when he talks about…paperwork.</p><p> </p><p>“Who was on assignment with you?” He’s trying to remember the name of Poe’s partners. “Jess?”</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone, actually. Snap, Jess, and Karé. We were door to door today.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn frowns again. Door to door usually meant just interviewing, chasing down leads if he remembers right. “So how’d paperwork get you?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe shrugs, taking another sip of his coffee. “One door looked to be pretty promising. Ended up being a lot more promising than I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn’s gut thrills with excitement. “You mean you found one of them?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe shoots him a quelling look and Finn bites the inside of his lip to keep from asking more as the server delivers a cup. They’ll get to talk about it soon enough.</p><p> </p><p>Right now, they’re supposed to be on a date.</p><p> </p><p>When Poe first suggested meeting like this, Finn balked. Turns out, it was his superior’s idea. Commander Organa seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, which shouldn’t have been a surprise considering she runs a private detective agency. Who hired them to look into First Order Psionics is anyone’s guess but after the demonstration that inadvertently introduced him to Poe, Finn saw an out. He’d worked long enough to know the First Order was bad news. And that didn't even include the blackmail. So he made a deal. Witness protection for information after this is all over. For him, and for Rey. And that’s been fueling all his secretive back-door entries into First Order files. He helped make them, so who better to skim for information? The problem was getting the info out without being made. Solution? Fake-date the lead detective. Obvious.</p><p> </p><p>Right.</p><p> </p><p>At first, it was stilted. Awkward. Despite being an incubus—or maybe because of—Finn never really <em>dated</em>. Too much shit to deal with, too many questions. And he <em>did </em>kiss Poe in a panic before he knew his name. But after the first ‘date’, Poe passed him a private comm and a wink and it all went downhill from there. Poe was easy company. He was definitely easy on the eyes. That created a new problem, for Finn at least. First date was coffee. Simple enough. The next? A walk around the park. Then dinner. Breakfast dates, movies, months of back and forth. Each time Finn passed a new piece of information and Poe’s hands seemed to linger longer. Now, Poe leans across the table and takes Finn’s hand in his. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but it still makes Finn a little spacey. Even with magic binders, very few voluntarily touch an incubus. There’s always a little risk. Poe doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, with the feelings he senses now, Finn might even guess Poe likes it, likes touching him.</p><p> </p><p>Or that he’s very good at pretending.</p><p> </p><p>Which is probably the case.</p><p> </p><p>“So.” Finn clears his throat. Trying not to stare at their joined hands. “Bad day then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well I wouldn’t say that.” Poe settles a little farther down in his seat, raising his coffee to his lips with a teasing smile. He doesn’t let go of Finn’s hand. “I got to see you, so I wouldn’t call it a total loss.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn frowns at the table, tongues the point of a tooth thoughtfully. If they were actually dating, he’d probably smile at how cheesy it is and if he’s keeping up the game, he should. It just hits a little to close to something traitorous and warm. The same something that looks back up to hold Poe’s gaze and gets a bit lost in the perpetual light dancing in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey.” Poe’s thumb rubs the back of his hand and Finn’s breath catches. “You ok?”</p><p> </p><p>That second, it’s just too much. Too many questions, too little communication. If they weren’t actively trying to work together as professionals, Finn would just straight up ask him about <em>that</em>. As it is, Finn eases his fingers out of Poe’s grip to hold his cup.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe looks ready to call his bluff but abruptly, his eyes narrow at something just over Finn’s shoulder. “Hm.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Poe shakes his head minutely and finishes his drink with a quick shot. “You ready to go?”</p><p> </p><p><em>Uh oh</em>. Poe doesn’t really wait for an answer, just shrugs on his jacket, tosses a few credits on the table, and takes Finn’s hand again. Finn doesn’t see anything wrong right off but the change in Poe's energy is enough. What the hell has him spooked? Poe doesn’t sprint for his hoverbike; his feet are more brisk than usual though. He swings one leg over, scoots up on the seat to make room for Finn as he passes him an in-ear comm. Then he hooks a finger between the buttons of Finn’s dress shirt and pulls him down. Finn barely has time to get a handle on himself before Poe kisses him, light and soft. Oh stars, it’s all Finn can do to not gasp and fall into it. There's <em>something</em> he can sense there, but whatever it is Poe's keeping it firmly buried. He wants to follow it, chase it. Then Poe’s lips move up his jaw to his ear and he remembers. <em>Part of the show, all part of the show</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you had a friend,” he murmurs. “You seen that ghoul before? Don’t look too quick.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn straightens, fits the comm in his ear and looks back. Through the shop windows, he spies the ghoul posted in the corner weaving through the crowd. Its cowl hangs deep over its face, nothing more than a shadow and a whisper. Finn stiffens and hops on behind Poe as the door bell jingles.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Couldn’t agree more.”</p><p> </p><p>With a cough and a jerk, the hoverbike pulls out into teeming evening traffic. <em>Christ, </em>the thing lurches around a corner and Finn scrambles to hold on. Poe bobs between stalled speeders and groundcars, not quite clipping pedestrians passing centimeters away under dim neon lights. A part of Finn hates that he has to hold on to Poe like he is. The other part lets his tail wind around Poe’s waist. For safety, obviously. Once they’re a safe distance, Poe’s voice crackles over the comm in his ear.</p><p> </p><p>“That ghoul’s been following you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You sure? They all kind of look the same don’t they? Big black robes and shit.”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t see it but Finn can just about feel Poe’s smirk. “Maybe. But you stare at ‘em long enough you can find some differences. It is my job, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Cold autumn rips frigid on his cheeks. Can’t keep his own temperature right with the binders on. Especially not this time of year. He pushes himself down behind Poe’s shoulders as far as he can. It’s warmer there, right where Poe’s wings would be. His cheek settles against the leather, Poe’s heat sinking in his skin. Now is <em>not </em>the time to be wondering what it would take to get those wings to show up again. To keep from thinking about it, Finn turns his thoughts to business. The First Order Psionic readers—mind reading devices recently developed—are scheduled to drop for purchase any day now. Time's running out to find evidence to disrupt their plans, much less put a stopper in their mind-control gambit.</p><p> </p><p>“You said you found some interesting doors. Did you find the distributors? The missing list?”</p><p> </p><p>“We found one distributor, yes,” Poe confirms, turning left then right under dingy canopies and dull neon light. Beating a quick path to Finn’s apartment from the look of it. “We were looking into some of the names you outlined and one of ‘em bolted.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who was it? Hask?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, that bastard wouldn’t give us anything. It was Monti Calay.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn has to think a second but the name sounds vaguely familiar. “Did you find the hub list? I didn’t think he had access to that.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Poe tenses a bit, not quite defensive but obviously not happy about his answer. “But we found where your missing data went. The hub master list was given to a distributor named Winshur Bratt, also on your names. We couldn’t find him but we busted Calay when he ran. Turns out, Bratt keeps the list at his hub facility. And Calay gave up the location.”</p><p> </p><p>"How'd you manage that?"</p><p> </p><p>Poe dodges a street vendor, pops up on the sidewalk. Finn tightens his grip as the bike jolts and Poe relaxes into him, tilting his head back as he says, "You might call it aggressive negotiations."</p><p> </p><p>Finn snorts. Suddenly the bruise blooming on Poe's cheek makes way more sense. "He popped you good, didn't he?"</p><p> </p><p>"Maybe," Poe scoffs over the comm. "At least I didn't hit him back."</p><p> </p><p>"No? You could lay him out if you really wanted to."</p><p> </p><p>"C'mon Finn, I'm not a mercenary. I'm supposed to help people; I take my job seriously."</p><p> </p><p>Finn squeezes Poe's waist, apologetic. "I know you do. Didn't mean anything by it." There's quiet for a few moments before Finn asks, "So how d'you plan on getting in the hub?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not sure yet. But once we do, we can work out how the hubs transmit to the readers and prove the First Order is out to pull that mind-control shit your data show. BB-8’s workin’ with C-3PO on a way to get in.”</p><p> </p><p>At last, Poe pulls up to the stoop of Finn’s apartment. He kills the engine, letting Finn slide off first. Finn already misses the heat of Poe’s body. So much for thinking about work. All he can think about is the strange feeling rolling off Poe, the threat of his being caught as they trek up the stairs to the door. He glances back over his shoulder, tail twitching back and forth, betraying his train of thought. The street seems clear so he stops short of digging out his keys. The more he thinks about Poe going against First Order security alone, or even with his team, the more he hates the idea. Maybe—</p><p> </p><p>“I could…I could help you?” he tries. “I know you’ve been working hard on this case, but First Order tech is no joke. Their security could land you in trouble faster than you can blink. I could get you past it no problem.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s the best he can give, but it rings more sincere than his first offer to help. Sneaking data is one thing, straight storming the place… Finn wavers for a moment. There’s something about Poe he doesn’t want to lose, and going alone against the Order is the quickest way to a dirt nap. Still. It feels like the right thing to do. And something hungry coalesces around Poe, tangible enough Finn can almost taste it. It catches him off guard—usually Poe has such a handle on his emotions Finn only ever gets the barest impressions. But this—</p><p> </p><p>“Finn. I can’t ask you to do that.” Poe sounds more strained than before, like he can’t believe the suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>Finn deflates.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Guess you might want this then?” he asks, patting the datastick in his suit jacket instead.</p><p> </p><p>Poe’s eyes flick down, then back, abruptly glint with a different kind of light. <em>Oh, what’s that? </em>He takes a couple steps closer, Finn takes a step back. All at once, the door is at his back and Poe at his front. That strange feeling is permeating the air between them, viscous, hot and heady. His fingers hook in the V of Poe’s zipped jacket, pull him centimeters closer. Tail slides down the back of Poe’s thigh before he can help it. Poe braces himself against the door with one hand, fingers dip inside Finn’s jacket, flattening against his chest before fishing the datastick out of his pocket with the other. He slips the data into his own pocket but doesn’t move to pull away, just noses gently where Finn’s jaw meets his ear. Whatever this is, it isn’t Finn’s magic. And no one’s here to watch…</p><p> </p><p>“I—” Poe bites off the words. “I can’t thank you enough. For what you’ve done. We’re gonna get ‘em, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really should be thanking you,” Finn murmurs, lips brushing Poe’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>Poe huffs a laugh, breath tingling from Finn’s neck to his everything. “You shouldn’t thank me until the job’s done.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe pulls back minutely, just enough that Finn can look him in the eye. This isn’t the job. This isn’t the game. Shit. Shit shit shit. Finn doesn’t know <em>what</em> this is, other than his own desire. But he throws caution to the wind, leans back in and tenderly kisses Poe’s bruised cheek. Revels in the soft gasp pushing past Poe’s teeth. Finn’s lips linger, pull sticky off his skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Be careful then, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>That seems to break the spell and Poe swallows hard, puts some space between them. “Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn shivers as the chill seeps back in, finally pulls his keys and gets the door open. When he steps inside, he pauses. Turns back. “Let me know if you change your mind. You might end up needing my expertise,” he says, trying to inject a teasing tone.</p><p> </p><p>It falls flat when Poe takes a deep breath, smiles wanly. “Be careful. Might need you more than you think.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn gulps. “Night, Poe.”</p><p> </p><p>Poe’s shoulders slump. “Night. Call me if you need anything.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Ok then</em>. He closes the door and it’s done. Poe seems to stand there for a second. Finn hears his boots scuff the pavement. His hoverbike starts up. Leaves. Finn sags against the door. <em>Bad bad bad</em>.</p><p> </p><p>What has he gotten himself into?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm not sure if that's what folks were looking for for a sequel but i sure liked it lolol<br/>thanks for reading, leave a comment if you can i'd love to hear what you think :D</p><p>
  <a href="https://agrippaspoleto.tumblr.com/post/627799577364398080/i-wanted-to-up-my-brushgame-in-digital-colouring">Now with Art from the most wonderful AgrippaSpoleto</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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